No Pistol Tastes the Same by Jacob Paul Patchen

Please welcome Jacob Paul Patchen author of No Pistol Tastes the Same

Jacob Paul Patchen will be awarding a free signed copy of NO PISTOL TASTES THE SAME to a randomly drawn winner (Print US only/international winners will receive a digital copy of the book) via rafflecopter during the tour.

No Pistol Tastes the Same

by Jacob Paul Patchen

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GENRE: Suspense (Military/PTSD)

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BLURB:

JP’s pistol tastes like bourbon.

Sergeant JP Grimm didn’t pull the trigger. Now his Marine brothers are dead. All victims of a child in a suicide vest…a child that resembled Sgt. Grimm’s very own. But how are you supposed to take a child’s life? How can you kill someone that looks just like your own son?

Those same hazel eyes he saw in his scope continue to haunt him long after he left the desert death lands as he tries to reconnect with his son, Adin. JP battles another war at home against PTSD and the worthless, dejected thoughts that he is the reason his friends are dead. His wife, Lisa, struggles to let her stubborn husband work it out on his own terms. She does all she can to give him space, support, and strength—but her love can only go so far.

As the world shows signs of impending doom from a weakening magnetic field and flaring sun, JP, too, shows signs of his own impending doom. After pushing everyone away, JP must face his nightmares to restore his relationship with his son, save his marriage, and save himself before the modern world burns out in a fiery, electromagnetic disaster.

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EXCERPT:

EXCERPT 1 from Introduction

The following are a few personal stories and thoughts about PTSD from real people who have experienced it––including the author.

“PTSD is a bitch. That’s what one of my marine buddies said when I asked for his thoughts on the subject––and I agree with him. Truthfully, after the war, it took me a long time to find myself again. I wish I could remember my 20s better than I do. But they’re a distant mist hiding what was really wrong with me. Instead, I tried to drown the man I had turned into with booze, bad decisions, and good times.

What I remember the most is the constant feeling of needing to be prepared for anything, for everything. I remember the stress, the anxiety, the planning, the overthinking, the struggle to make simple decisions without first trying to outthink every threat or defuse every danger. If I couldn’t conquer it, I avoided it. I remember being worn out, exhausted, and in need of constant entertainment. Boredom brought trouble. The loud noises, diesel exhaust, trash, and wires along the road made my body react without me having any control over it. At night, I searched the backyard with a flashlight and a loaded gun. I don’t know what I was looking for, but finding nothing helped me sleep. I kept a hollow-point bullet in the chamber of the pistol on my nightstand. I adjusted it each night to make sure I could grab it if I woke up to danger. Under my pillow or mattress, I hid a blade, just in case I couldn’t get to my gun in time.

I was angry. Good lord, was I an angry man. At what? I don’t know. But everything seemed against me. No matter how hard I fought back, I’d lose. I hit walls, windows, my pride, and dignity. I bloodied my hands to take my mind off of the wounds inside of me. I wanted love. I needed love. But couldn’t love myself. There were times I’d walk home from the bar because I was mad, I felt insecure, or that I didn’t belong. I relived my fears and regrets in my dreams. Damn those dreams. I still vividly remember one dream where I felt the blood drain from a shrapnel wound in my neck. I felt the life leaving me, the warmth of the blood rolling down my skin. I felt myself dying. And I lived my final thoughts in that dream…that I should have been better. I shouldn’t have let them get me. I should have killed them first.

You see, PTSD is a slow poison that erodes the security, the happiness, and the freedom you once knew. It turns them into a dark alley dagger, a drowning last breath, or an unexpected fall. It steals the life from you.

I’d like to thank all the service men and women who have put their life on the line for me, our country, and our freedom. Sometimes it’s not the battle that kills us, it’s the war we fight long after. I think of you. I pray for you. And I wrote this book for you.”

-Jacob Graham (Jacob Paul Patchen)

Marines, Rifleman, Iraq 2005, Cambridge, Ohio

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Jacob Paul Patchen is an award-winning author and poet of inciting fiction and provocative poetry.

Jacob earns his inspiration through experience and believes every book has a purpose. He writes powerful, emotional, and thrilling stories about mental health, war, social stigmas, and other taboo subjects in order to bring awareness, change, and hope to those who need it.

Raised in Southeast Ohio, he’s a sucker for fast workouts, long laughter, and power naps. Snacks are his love language, and he thinks he’s a Pisces. Check him out and join his newsletter at Jacobpaulpatchen.com.

SOCIAL:

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Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Jacob-Paul-Patchen/e/B014MNSZZW?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1649205096&sr=8-1

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

Jacob Paul Patchen will be awarding a free signed copy of NO PISTOL TASTES THE SAME to a randomly drawn winner (Print US only/international winners will receive a digital copy of the book) via rafflecopter during the tour.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4200